CHAPTER 23
COVENANT AGE OF RECLAMATION, TERANIS II, COVENANT OUTPOST
Silent Shadow First Blade Xesan' Sramai stepped down from the side seat of the Spectre transport, a small yet bulbous craft carried by its gravity repulsion drives, two other blades, one at the other side seat and another manning the powerful plasma cannon on the rear platform of the craft, they stepped down onto the weary rocks.
The other blade who had operated the plasma cannon moved silently towards him, the youngest of three, Ruza' Krasamai, a warrior as dangerous as his arrogance, and the latest addition to his lance.
the dark maroon of his own custom made infiltration harness secured well to his form as he took his Type 25 Plasma Rifle and moved steadily forward, Krasamai unseathed the hilt of his red bloodblade, while the third blade Krusa Vrasamai glared silently across the open meadow, the barrel of his carbine peaking through the smoke.
The driver of the Spectre looked in awe, a young minor who had not seen combat, and was still waiting for his first campaign. "What had done this?" he whispered, as he surveyed the bodies of his fallen brothers. "The humans are here?"
"No, it's the demons that are." Sramai whispered to him through the speaker in his helmet, the phantom glow of his angry crimson visor shone through the smoke.
The Demons were the name the Covenant had named the impeccably resilient, resourceful, cunning and brave super soldiers of humanity. Named after what is believed to be ferocious warriors in their history called "Spartans", while it may have intrigued the Minister of Sufficient Record, a San Shyuum archivist whom had studied them, and whom he had standing orders to protect. He cared more for their tactics and combat skills, their nature, which was similar to human desperation. A species becomes much more dangerous as they etch closer towards extinction, as they pushed humanity further into the deep corners of their space, more and more warriors were lost hunting them in the shadows.
Xesan eventually inspected the bodies, a lot in barbaric and brutal conditions, the weapons humanity used against them were far more primitive than those used by their own. and the wounds these warriors and their thralls suffered was no exception, Jackals had been mangled and slumped over the slab and smooth rocks, grunts were covered in their bright blue blood, bleeding to death from shrapnel and punctures in their methane pack leading to suffocation.
The camp was now little more than a large slagscrap. it's smoothened purple nanolaminate surface had collapsed upon itself, being very little left of the compartments inside the outpost.
He grunted, and swung back outside.
A crimson, veteran major elite came from another spectre that had recently arrived with a supply of cobalt coloured minor warriors, his fourth blade, Thar' Kasovai was among them, his dark red harness stretched towards the others.
"The scouts sent from this outpost are also dead, First Blade" he said.
"Unfortunate" He said
The armoured elite and another walked forward towards him, the other was a spymaster, an "Ossona" for the Minister of Sufficient Record, his teal blue armour sunk out of place in the dark vastness of the smoldered campsite, in his hand he held a holographic projector, he never said a word, but deployed the device in front of him, the form of Sufficient Record appeared before him.
"First Blade" he said, a voice smoothened, but eager to be sharp. "It had better be important"
Sufficient Record sat down in a gravity assisted throne, a fitting match to his privileged and scrawny self.
"I wished to call upon you directly, holy one." he lied, "but I have reason to believe that the Demons have come to impede our progress"
Record rose his voice, clearly angered and impatient, "Well? Why haven't you stopped them?"
"We know not of where they are, Holy One, perhaps if you could circle our Phantoms-"
Record's frustration cried over him much like how his own keep's young weep for their mothers.
"That cannot be arranged, currently, First Blade. You know very well of our operation to retrieve the divine instrument beneath the stone of this place"
"Indeed" he said, surrendering his protest, "It shall be done, holy one."
Had Record been in front of him, and either he could conceal his murder to the demons on his next report to the High Prophets, or his usage was not as important to the Journey, he would have unseared his head from his long neck from sheer incompetence and lack of mannerisms alone.
The Ossona deactivated the hologram and turned to the others, he walked away back onto the transport Phantom Dropship.
The Major stood to the other five elites aside his own lance. Rallying his younger subordinate warriors and their grunt thralls.
"We shall hunt this demon four, then burn their corpses with the might of our blades, on our fallen brothers blood, they shall die"
Roars of approval echoed throughout the cave. As he turned back towards the Spectre assault vehicle powered to life as his lance slumped onto the craft.